Daedelus Demands
by CooperTrooperSG1
Summary: I definitely don’t want prophylactics becoming the new Atlantean currency.' 'No, we don’t want that,' John agreed, trying to school his features into an expression of utmost seriousness with little success.


Title: Daedelus Demands

Author: CooperTrooperSG1

Rating: T? Mild, probably closer to K+

Category: Humor

Pairing: Shweir pre-ship, or just friendship if you prefer. Hey, why is it also called "Sparky?"

Summary: First time to post an Atlantis story. In which John and Elizabeth have a late night discussion about requisition forms for more supplies in alarmingly large demand.

Daedelus Demands

Lt. Col. John Sheppard was all set to head off to bed. It was late, and most of Atlantis was already asleep. The night-shift people were all in their usual positions in the dimly-lit corridors, and any view that led to outside provided a spectacular view of the stars. He himself was a night owl, and had discovered early on that their intrepid leader, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, was even more of an insomniac than he was. Although, he wasn't entirely convinced that was her natural tendency, as opposed to merely a by-product of being severely over-worked and over-worried with the various duties that were hers and hers alone.

When he'd accidentally overheard her arguing with Carson one night over prescription sleeping pills, he had self-appointed himself to the task of making sure she did at least go to bed at some point. Still, since he doubted she'd appreciate it if he made it obvious that's what he was doing, he limited the drop-ins to her office to three nights one week, four nights the next, and always varied the nights, so that she couldn't detect a pattern, should she become suspicious. And, as he'd been doing this for nearly three years now, he liked to think he was pretty good at it. She'd never called him on it, at any rate.

So, tonight was one of the nights when he swung by Elizabeth's office on his way to bed, 'just to say hi.' sure enough, she was working at her computer. He watched her through the glass walls of her office for a few moments - whatever she was working on was clearly puzzling her. She was consulting a calculator and scribbling on her tablet with the stylus, clearly growing more and more frustrated the longer he watched.

Hurrying into the office to see what was wrong, John had just poked his head inside with a cheerful smile when the usually-oh-so-cool-and-collected Dr. Weir let out a frustrated growling sort of noise and hurled the calculator across the room, right at him. "Whoa!" he caught the calculator before it could smack him right the face, as she called hastily, "Oh, John, look out!"

"No harm done," he said, entering and sliding the calculator across the desk back towards her. "Although, you might want to put up a warning sign outside your office if calculator-projectiles are going to become a hazard around here. Not everyone has my lightning-fast reflexes, you know."

He sank into one of the chairs facing her, adopting a relaxed posture and speaking very casually, as though throwing calculators and screaming were normal behaviour, nothing to be concerned about.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized again, looking mildly embarrassed at being caught remotely out-of-control.

He waved the apology away and said, "So, what's wrong, Elizabeth?"

She shook her head, glanced down at her tablet, and said, "Just going over the supply requisitions for when the Daedelus arrives day after tomorrow."

"Well, I can see how that would be incredibly boring, but why is it causing you to throw things? You know, people who live in glass offices shouldn't throw… office supplies."

"Good point," she agreed, finally smiling for the first time. "It's… it's… really trivial, actually, and not really worth mentioning."

"Now, now, you nearly concussed me a moment ago, I think I should get to hear why."

"All right, fine. If you must know, since we received our first re-stock from the Daedelus, I've become aware of a marked increase in the demand for… specific supplies that I know wouldn't keep... being requisitioned if they weren't needed… and I turned a blind eye to it for some time, hoping the increase would go unnoticed by the SGC and Homeworld Security, because it's just one line on a long line of medical supplies. I doubted anyone was paying close enough attention to even care, but apparently someone noticed. General O'Neill sent what he intended to be a humorous memo along with the last shipment, and I'm sure he was just joking but now according to Carson I've got to send off yet another request for nearly twice as many as before…"

"Whoa, slow down, Elizabeth," John interrupted, chuckling. "Is McKay hoarding coffee again, because I talked to him about that and he promised…"

"No, it's nothing like that, John," she assured him. "And I highly doubt Rodney is remotely responsible for this… supply shortage… and if he is I really, really don't want to know about it."

"All right, now I'm intrigued 'Lizabeth. What could possibly be in such high demand all of a sudden?"

Turning faintly pink before glancing back down at her tablet and making a few very business-like marks with the stylus, she cleared her throat and said, in her best professional, matter-of-fact voice, "Condoms."

When John didn't respond, she waited a few moments before glancing back up at him. His eyebrows were nearly touching his messy fringe, they were raised so high. "Oh," he finally offered.

"Yes."

"And… the increase in quantity needed was… that noticeable?"

"Yes. In a way I suppose it's good, you know - people are settling in here enough to… carry on their normal… activities. And despite the dangers we continue to encounter, I think people are starting to consider this place home. I know I have from nearly the beginning but it's good to know that other people are as well."

"So… you don't have a problem with it then?"

"Well, in theory no, but it's just… look, Atlantis is entirely different from Stargate Command, you know? It's an international team of civilians and military alike, so the same fraternization rules don't apply to at least half of the personnel… and those within the military are only forbidden from fraternizing with each other, not with anybody who isn't military. So officially, neither I nor the SGC can say anything on the subject. But I still feel the pressure from the SGC and the IOA to run a… professional… expedition. How are they going to respect what we're trying to do here if they think we're all just out here… fornicating!"

He couldn't help it - he laughed.

She glared at him. "I'm serious, John! If they think I'm not in control of this team they'll replace me like _that _and if the day ever comes where they do finally ask me to step down I'd rather not have it be because they think I turned the expedition into some sort of hedonistic…"

"Elizabeth, calm down. I'm not laughing at the situation. I'm just laughing because I think the last person I heard use the word 'fornicating' was my grandmother."

"Well… you understand why this could be a serious problem, don't you?"

"Well… sort of," John said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"I get what you said, but really as long as you have the support of the Pentagon, you're all set, and you said yourself that General O'Neill thought it was funny. And I don't know the man all that well personally, but isn't he like practically married now to the woman who was his 2IC for like eight years or something?"

"I think that depends on your definition of 'practically married.'"

"Very diplomatic answer. What I'm saying is, that he more than anybody else knows that there are situations in which it's okay for the rules to be bent a little. I think asking people to come live on Atlantis definitely qualifies."

"I know," she sighed. "And I haven't had any professional problems brought to my attention as a result of a failed personal relationship, so obviously people are conducting themselves like adults… although admittedly I have remained deliberately out of the loop when it comes to city gossip. I'm just mildly concerned that if I don't figure out some way to… nip this in the bud, it's going to get way out of control and then it'll be too late to do anything."

"What do you want to do, start rationing everyone a certain number of condoms per month?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I thought about that, but we'd have to give everyone an equal number, and then that just opens the floor for people to start bartering and negotiating for them, those who need more or less… and brings people's relationships potentially under even more scrutiny."

"That's true; I guess it wouldn't take long for word to get round who paid top dollar for extra supplies."

"Yes. And I definitely don't want prophylactics becoming the new Atlantean currency."

"No, we don't want that," John agreed, trying to school his features into an expression of utmost seriousness with little success.

She narrowed her eyes at him but continued. "I think it's best if the entire supply remain in the infirmary under Carson's discrete eyes. And of course I don't want to deny the request - if we run out and people get desperate enough…"

"They'll do what they're gonna do anyway," John finished. "Look, women in the Air Force are offered more… reliable forms of…"

"Yes, the female military staff here receives quarterly injections as well. And Carson has a variety of other birth control options he can offer to anyone else who wants them. That seems to indicate to me that the increase isn't so much in long-term relationship… use, but…"

"Just more people having sex? That makes sense. But there haven't been any pregnancies or anything…"

"And I'd like to keep it that way. No unwanted pregnancies, at least. If someone wants to have a baby, by all means… but that's neither here nor there. I guess I should just sign this damn requisition form and expect another snarky memo from General O'Neill with the next supply."

John nodded, and continued looking at her thoughtfully as she went back to work on her tablet.

Elizabeth ignored it for several moments before looking back up at him and demanding, "What?"

"You already had that decision made," he stated.

"Well, there's really no viable alternative, John…"

"No. I mean, that's not what had you so upset you were chucking calculators at my head."

"I wasn't chucking it _at _your head, I was just throwing it and your head got in the way."

"Interesting distinction there, 'Lizabeth."

"John… I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"What exactly were you calculating anyway?"

"Nothing," she said, just a little too vehemently for him to let her get away with.

"E-liz-a-beth… come on. I'm intrigued now."

"It's just… I had no idea! Do you realize with the supply Carson says we've already 'burned through,' that since the Daedelus was last here, on average there were about forty-two people having sex every day here? Wait, that's not even right because that's condom use and assuming there are two people involved…"

"I get the idea," John said, holding up his hand to stop her. While at first he'd been juvenilely amused at making Elizabeth uncomfortable with the subject matter, he was quickly fighting the urge to squirm himself. "You actually did the math on that?"

"Yeah. I know I remain deliberately separate from that sort of knowledge when it comes to my people but… does that number seem right to you?"

John shrugged. "I don't much go for base gossip either. Most of the stuff I've heard hasn't even been close to right anyway. But ah… from the people I hang out with and the amount of action they all seem to get, it does seem kind of high. I don't know, maybe it's just because we're senior personnel, so you, me, Carson, and Rodney are all more… aware of our professional reputations. Well, actually, I'm sure Rodney would jump at the chance to…"

"John, please!"

"You get the idea."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." She thought for a moment and said, "What about Teyla and Ronon?"

"You mean, together?"

"Not necessarily. I was just curious why you didn't include them…"

"Oh. Well, I know there are lots of rumours about them being together, but I've never seen anything that goes past the boundaries of friendship between them. It wouldn't surprise me that much though. But I'd just assume they wouldn't want condoms. I mean, they have to both have their own traditions and… methods… when it comes to… all that. Believe it or not, it's never come up in a conversation before."

"No, I don't suppose it would," Elizabeth agreed, smiling at the idea of John quietly taking Ronon aside and offering him condoms.

"Well…" John said after a few moments of silence that quickly became awkward the longer they looked at each other. He hoped she'd caught his little tacit admission that he wasn't one of the 42-a-day-regular-users. "I guess I know why the corridors are always so empty at night, huh," he joked hesitantly.

"I guess so," she agreed uncomfortably.

He took up a rather intense scrutiny of his cuticles and pondered everything he'd just heard. While he hadn't admitted it to Elizabeth, he was more than a little surprised by the alleged number of… couplings… happening around them. Not to mention a little jealous, although he'd never admit it to anybody… Frowning at his hands, it occurred to him that maybe Elizabeth was feeling the same way. It would certainly account for the level of frustration he'd witnessed earlier - although perhaps it was a different type of frustration from what he'd initially thought.

The question was, did he have the nerve to even come close to hinting that he had guessed what he was now reasonably sure she'd really been thinking about? He risked glancing up at her and saw that she was busily signing various electronic forms and shutting her tablet down for the night, all business again… except that she was biting the corner of her lip and tapping her foot rapidly under the table.

Since he spent a considerable amount of time trying _not _to think of his boss in a remotely sexual context - with rather disappointing results, to be sure - the possibility that she might be just a little sexually frustrated herself had never really occurred to him. But now that it occurred to him… she didn't even get the opportunity to routinely blast the crap out of stuff like he did. Or fight with Ronon and Teyla, or zip around in the jumpers… in fact the only outlet she could possibly have was… he couldn't even complete the thought in her presence.

He let out a choking cough-like sound and got to his feet quickly. "Well, you must be ready for bed!"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, as he winced and pressed a hand to his forehead. "I didn't mean it to sound like that! I just meant, I'm really tired and it's really late so you must be tired too, and you seem to be shutting down your computer…"

"I know what you meant, it's okay," she interrupted.

"Good. So… good. I'll just… get out of your way then. Sleep well," he said quickly, heading for the door. Then he felt like a chicken for beating such a hasty retreat - he was supposed to be a Lt. Colonel in the USAF, for God's sake! Not to mention he almost always was the one teasing her and getting in the last word, not the other way around. He didn't want to set a dangerous precedent of her coming out on top of their little friendly verbal skirmishes, after all.

He turned around in the doorway after opening it, leaning against the frame so the door wouldn't close again, under the pretence of waiting for her, took a deep breath, and decided to just jump right in. "Um, listen, Elizabeth… it's probably none of my business, but uh… I think if you're going to adopt such a friendly unofficial policy with the rest of the staff here it's only fair of you to hold yourself to the same standard. You know none of us would think less of you as a leader for wanting to have a personal life."

She stopped halfway to the door with her tablet tucked under one arm, looking stunned - either that he'd said so much, or that he'd read her accurately, he wasn't entirely sure. After a moment she cleared her throat quietly and said, "Well, I appreciate the thought, John, but apart from having no _time _to have a personal life of my own, I really don't think a double standard is a bad idea here. Like you said, senior personnel is under far more scrutiny. Within the city and from the higher-ups back on Earth."

"Would you begrudge McKay a relationship?" John asked casually, hoping to steer the conversation away from her and then eventually back around.

She thought about that for a moment as she slipped past him out the door and they made their way through the dimly-lit corridors. "Well, I think I actually might begrudge Rodney a relationship, but only because he has no filter when it comes to knowing what most people want to hear and what they don't, and he might scar us all for life in a meeting some morning with some horrible detail of his sex life…"

"Ew. Good point. Okay, Carson then. In a medical emergency he outranks even you. Would you be upset if he had a private life of his own that didn't interfere with his duties?"

"Of course not, as long as he was professional. And I appreciate the point you're trying to make, John, but it's still just not the same."

"It could be, if you wanted it to be. Everyone admires and appreciates the job you do here, Elizabeth. And I think everyone wants you to be happy. You've got quite a fan club amongst your people, you know."

"Oh, you're one to talk!"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"No, seriously. What are you implying, Elizabeth?"

"That you seem to be doing an awful lot of name-calling, Mr. Pot."

"Says Ms. Kettle?"

"Uh-huh."

John shrugged. "Maybe I'll take my own advice one of these days then. Would you begrudge your ranking military officer a personal relationship, Dr. Weir?" he couldn't help teasing her a little bit, just in tone, aware that they were treading on potentially dangerous subject matter.

"I suppose that would depend on the situation, Colonel," she replied cryptically as they both stopped - they'd reached her quarters - and turned to face each other in front of her door.

"You're too good at this."

"At talking?"

"Diplomatic-talking. Answering without actually saying anything."

"You're pretty good at it when you choose to be yourself."

"See? There you go again!" he pointed at her and looked up and down the corridor as though he expected people to leap out to agree with him.

"You seem to have misplaced your peanut gallery, John," she remarked mildly.

"Okay, okay, I give up! All I'm trying to say is… I'm sure Carson wouldn't think any less of you if someday you wanted to, you know, dip into his stash."

"Thank you," she said in a deliberately bland tone, opening the sliding door to her quarters. "As always, your input is greatly appreciated."

"Okay, now you're just _trying _to sound like a PR recording," he accused around an uncontrollable grin.

"Maybe," she said evasively, stepping inside. She turned in the doorway and added, "Oh, and John?"

He'd been turning to go, but turned back to her and waited expectantly. "I get the injections anyway. For the record."

One eyebrow raised automatically, along with one side of his mouth. "Really?"

"Yup."

The other half of his mouth joined the rest in a slow smile. "Good to know," he finally murmured, turning on his heels to walk down the corridor.

She watched him go - laughing to herself at the definite swagger in his step, just a little more pronounced than usual. Then he turned around halfway to the transporter, caught her watching him, and called, "Oh, yeah, Elizabeth?"

"Yes, John?"

He continued walking backwards as he spoke, determined to get the last word in. "I have no idea where Carson keeps all those condoms. For the record!"

He caught her look of what he hoped he was accurately interpreting as 'pleased quasi-surprise' and congratulated himself mentally on the outcome of tonight's events. Then, just as he was all the way to the transporter, about to activate it, she called in an almost sing-song voice, "That's not what the rumour mill saaaaaaaays."

"I thought you didn't pay attention to the rumour mill, Doctor Weir!"

"Well, some of them still reach my ears, Captain Kirk!"

Making a mental note to send Rodney through another round of self-defence training with Teyla and Ronon in punishment, John thought quickly and called back, "So I guess you already heard all those juicy ones about the ranking military officer and the sexy expedition leader then, huh!"

He practically dove into the transporter and activated it hastily before she could respond. Yeah, he felt a little bit like a chickenshit for ducking for cover like that, but it was really the only hope he had of winning such a conversation. Even so, perhaps tomorrow night should be one of those off-nights where he _didn't _stop by to see how late she was up. After all, he didn't want to be too obvious about… anything.


End file.
